April 21, 2011
by sockstar
Summary: April 21, 2011. Judgment Day. Sam tells the story about the aftermath of the Skynet attack. An iCarly/Terminator AU/Crossover. Pairings? Doubtful. Death? A certainty.
1. April 21, 2031

April 21, 2011.

**Rating: **T

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**Summary: **April 21, 2011. Judgment Day. A short iCarly fic set in the Terminator universe. Pairings? Doubtful. Death? A certainty.

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"Ready? Alright. My name is Sam Puckett, Captain, Tech-Com Special Forces Pac Nor West.. Seattle. Or what's left of it. Apparently I gotta make a recording so that the 'children of the future' will know what our story is, what went down. How we fucked it all up.."

The two people standing behind the camera turn to look at each other.

"Shit, if they are learning about how sentient machines began their slaughter of the entire human race, a little swearing ain't gonna make a difference."

The operator rolled their eyes through the viewfinder. It was an older model, found by one of the orphaned children that hadn't grown up enough to fight yet but still needed to be put to use.

The camera had been battered by the elements but it worked. It had taken months to find an appropriate storage device.

Sam frowned.. "What was I saying? Ah yeah. The story. Well, I can't really tell you that. I'm as they might say.. more detail focused. Maybe you'll hear from one of the geeks and they'll fill you in there. But I'll tell _my _story. Or at least how it started. How nearly everyone important to me died. But don't expect a dear diary, cos I got shit to do later."

"Listen up future nerds, because I ain't saying this twice."

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**AN: **This isn't going to be too long. Probably 4 or 5 chapters. Who knows. This story will be in Sam's POV.


	2. Spencer

**Chapter Name: **Spencer.

**Notes: **Thanks to my two reviewers, **Snapplelinz **and **pink-strawberry-lemonade. **This story is in Sam's POV.**  
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So that was my life before.

My family. My friends.

Before Judgment Day.

I learned that name weeks later.

J-Day was what we'd come to call it in the decades to come. You probably know all about that though.

It was the day the metal attacked.

They used our own weapons, turned against us. They_ were_ our own weapons.

A billion people, incinerated in seconds. A world-wide nuclear strike, SKYNET had attained self-awareness, then blew us all away. The suits, the Generals, the President, had all hailed it as a miracle of defence.

It should've secured the future for us all. No human error, no mistakes. Freddie made a joke about hopefully having taught the computer that the only winning move was not to play. I punched him in the gut for being such a god-damned nerd.

I didn't die on J-Day. Neither did Freddie, Gibby, Spencer, _everyone_ in Seattle survived the missile attack.

Seattle didn't get hit. No-one knows why, maybe the metal wanted to control the submarine base and not to destroy it.

People called it a miracle.

Maybe in some other time line it was different. I've lived long enough now to know that this isn't how it was meant to happen. Maybe we died without even knowing. Maybe in another it didn't even happen. Maybe we'd all still be alive.

People are stupid. Always have been.

Sometimes I think.. I _know_ that it would've been better if we all died in the nuclear holocaust.

Quick. Easy. Painless. That's the way to go kids.

Spencer died first.

Well. That could be a lie. Wouldn't be the first time I have.

Mrs. Benson was at the hospital. After the attack, when the looting and rioting started, she stayed on duty. During a panicked phone call telling Freddie to stay with Carly and Spencer, the line clicked cut out.

That was the last anyone heard from her.

The lines went dead.

That happened to a lot of people.

Spencer died in the days after the attack. People just presumed it was the Chinese, or the Russians. None of the TV stations or radio stations survived long enough to tell us otherwise. We heard rumors though. Maybe the Koreans.

There was looting. All over the city, gangs of people stealing anything they could get their hands on.

The water stopped flowing. Spencer took charge, decided to head out. Freddie offered to come with, but Spencer decided it was too dangerous.

It was.

But not for the reason he thought.

I saw a crowd of people running, a mad stampede, down the street in front of the building. Dozens and dozens of people. Trampling, yelling, screaming. I saw parents separated from children. The mob ran on, heedless of the people lying broken on the floor. The head of one was twisted around, his neck bent unnaturally.

Spencer peered out from behind the door of the shop he was searching. He probably heard the screaming. After walking carefully out onto the roadway, checked each person lying on the ground.

Then I saw _it._ A dark grey bird-like shape, red glowing 'eyes' out in front. Weapons hung from the wings, as it hovered off the ground. I'd never seen anything like it in my life. I'd come to know that shape and what it signified.

_Death._

Spencer spun on his heel, standing up beside the dead body of a girl that could not have been more than eight years old.

He panicked. If he had stood still it might have flown away and left him unharmed. If he had done anything but run. If he had went flat on the ground. _If..._

Instead Spencer ran. He got all of two steps before the drone fired at him. The crack of the machine gun reverberated all the way up to the roof, then I heard the sickening thud of the bullets striking.

I forced myself to open my eyes, to make sure.

I was sure.

I watched the drone drift away. At the end of the street I noticed a small group of men hiding behind parked cars armed with whatever they could find I guess. Shotguns, assault rifles, some pistols and even a rocket launcher. The drone glided into a cross-street, the men took aim. Sparks shot off the gleaming metal as they poured fire onto it. The drone turned, the weaponry slamming into one after another.

With the drone distracted, the man with the rocket stepped out from his cover, took a knee and fired.

The rocket belched flame, twisted and skewed away, slamming into a building that I couldn't see.

He discarded the launcher, and pulled out a machine gun, belt fed. He stood up, gun in hand, with the other feeding the ammo and just fired until the bullets ran out.

The man hit what we came to learn was a weak point. There was an explosion, thick black smoke billowed out of the drone. It spiraled out of control and out of my view.

I heard the crash though. That was one of the few pieces of metal assigned to guarding Kitsap. The base was too important, too valuable to be left to just the machines.

Then the men were gone.

I stood there watching the street.

The emergency services were still semi-functional, and I watched what I could only describe as a disposal crew drive into the street, and loaded Spencer up into a truck. They grabbed him by the leg and shoulder, and flung him up like a ragdoll. I broke down, curling up into a ball with the edge of the roof to my back for what must have been hours.

I hope you guys watching never have to see someone you love being treated like that. It's fucks with your head.

Carly found me. Asked me why I was crying. She asked me if she heard the noises.. that Freddie thought it was gunfire.

I told her Spencer was dead. Shot. Carly refused to believe me. Freddie took one look over the edge then retreated back towards the door. Maybe all those video games he played made him understand or desensitized him.

Carly then peered over.

The street was slick with blood.

Carly ran.

Freddie caught her. There was only three places to run. The fire escape. The door back inside. And over the edge. Carly wasn't fast enough to get to the fire escape before him. She struggled, yelling about how he must be down there and that I was wrong, swearing, hitting Freddie and telling him to let her go. He wouldn't.

She cried for two days straight.

I cried whenever I wasn't trying to comfort her.

Freddie.. he .. what?

A planning session? With Connor? He thinks every next battle will end the war. Now? Aight, turn that shit off and let's go, you heard the man.

Later dorks.

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**Notes: **I changed it from a 'crossover' to a regular one. No real point, except that it's not so much a 'crossover' as a 'au' and probably more suited to the iCarly section in any case.


	3. Carly

**Chapter Name: **Carly.

**Notes: **Thank you to reviewers **Rinzler24, Snapplelinz and pigwiz. **This story continues to be in Sam's POV.

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It was a month or so after Spencer... died... everything had gone to hell. The city was burning. Flames lit the horizon, explosions and gunfire echoed through the day. The night sky was lit no longer by the squares of light from the offices and apartments, but by tracer bullets and destructive fire. Burning cars. Buildings. Sparking electrical wiring.

The only thing stopping the city from being consumed by it was the near constant rain.

Water was still running, probably the workers holed up inside the works to make sure they could keep going. They knew how vital it was. That meant we could concentrate on building up a supply for when or if the water itself failed.

For food, we'd pretty much looted the entire apartment complex.

Freddie the nerd had made us start from the top floor and work our way down in an 'organized and thorough fashion' as he called it. We checked each room to see what we could find. There was surprisingly little. Back then you could get anything you wanted almost instantly. After a month the rats had taken anything that wasn't secured. Nothing was safe unless it was tinned. Hardly anyone was left.

We tried to keep tabs on some of the people left behind who couldn't fend for themselves.

Mrs. Haberstadt was one of them.

Her son hadn't come back.

We'd been giving her food. Trying to find her medication. Thanks to Mrs. Benson and her ridiculous medication stash we were able to help her out for two weeks. She'd be sitting in her chair, knitting a jumper or baby boots. For her grand-daughter.

We found one last bottle of pills she could use.

I took the short trip to her room. I knocked on the door. No response. I opened the door. It creaked.

Damn.

We could keep the pills.

I sighed. I suppose it was probably always gonna happen eventually. Bad food. Out of all medication but the most basic ones.

Her cat was lying at her feet. Poor thing. I bundled it up, petting it and trying to comfort it. When I started walking back out the door it mewled.

At least Frothy would have a friend.

I told Carly and Freddie. They asked if I was sure. Maybe she was just sleeping? No. I checked.

Freddie had this steely look of determination or some shit on his face and strode out towards the door. Carly asked where he was going.

To take her body out to the collection by the side of the road. An army truck would pick it up. At least now it would be more dignified than what happened to Spencer.

I handed him a mask and he nodded. I guess all those violent video games desensitized him or some shit. I thought he'd be a little crying baby without his mommy. Instead he acted like a man. He was a man.

Carly informed me we were running out of food. To punctuate the point my stomach rumbled. I hadn't eaten the entire day. Freddie told us we needed to ration our food because we didn't have enough.

The stupid nub was right. The apartments were cleaned out. Most people had their own stash and that wouldn't help us without taking them by force and that wasn't something Carly or Freddie would be prepared to do.

It was when we discussed that idea that we realized we'd need weapons. No-one knew what the hell was going on. The only information was hushed rumors about an invasion. We might need to defend ourselves from invaders.

What we did know was reports about gangs in other parts of the cities.

So we needed weapons. And food.

Luckily I had an uncle. No idea what happened to him or if he'd be there, but I knew where he kept his cache. It'd contain enough guns and ammo to keep us safe enough from any wild animals or people without good intentions.

Freddie was useful for once. He remembered once having to help at the school to move some food stores into a basement. It was mandatory if there was a snow-in. Boxes of long-life army rations and jugs of water.

We figured it'd be best to split. We'd both take vehicles left in the underground parking garage. Carly and Freddie took a van, I took a battered old pickup.

The streets weren't deserted, but they were a shadow of their old use. Here and there an army truck would drive through, or a police car. I had a close shave with a car filled with a small group of shady looking guys. I saw them before they saw me. I just stopped the car and ducked beneath. Better not to take any chances.

After that it didn't take me too long to reach his place, able to drive as fast as I wanted with no red lights to stop me. I parked around the back. What looked like a concrete statue water fountain wasn't really concrete. It was anchored into the ground by four pegs. Take them out, and I could push the fountain out of the way. It was made with fiberglass finished to look like concrete. Underneath was a hidden trap-door. It wasn't long before I pulled out the best of the weaponry inside the small shipping container. A couple AK-47's, an M3 Shotgun, MP7 submachine gun, M1911 .45 pistol, a 9mm Glock that Carly could use without breaking her arm. I took them all and a few other bits and pieces. Plus ammo and tools,

On the drive back I decided to let off some steam, and did a doughnut spin in the car while shooting the MP7 at abandoned cars. The bullets sparked off the doors and broke the glass windows. I shattered the windows from offices and shops. I pingled shots off trashcans. I laughed when I knocked down a clothing dummy.

I parked back in the garage, only to find the van not there. I hadn't been out too long, so I guess they had either come back already and gone out again for another load, or they were still at the school packing. I made my way to the school.

The van was there, doors open but nothing in side. I heard a screech of tires and noticed the same shady guys from earlier tearing away at high speed. At that point I got worried.

I stepped in through the same double doors I always had whenever I bothered to drag myself to school.

That's when I got scared. I could hear Freddie. He was in pain.

I ran through the halls. They were filled with garbage. Paper, books, abandoned school bags. Glass from trophy cases crunched under my heel.

I turned the corner and I saw him.

And... I..

I can't do this. I don't want to remember it.

I have to? I don't have to do anything. I've spent years trying to _forget_ this.

Fine! If it means that goddamn much to you.

Freddie was stumbling through the hallway. I could tell he was hurt. A huge gash halfway up his right leg. His head was cut, both eyes swollen black. There was blood all over him. So much blood. Freddie was holding Carly. My Carly. He was holding her limp body in his arms. Part of her hair was torn away. Her shirt ripped almost in half.. hanging on by a thread.

I felt the air rush out. It was impossible to breathe. Freddie finally noticed me. He kept hobbling over towards me. I felt my body chill.

I didn't want it to be true but I knew it was. I collapsed onto the floor, my back against the hard metal of the lockers.

Freddie kept repeating the word over. Sorry. His eyes were blank, his face absent of any expression. He knelt down beside me. He kept Carly's head on his shoulders, his hand stroking her hair as we always did when she needed comfort.

My poor Carly... why? How?

Freddie just whispered that he failed her. I asked him again. To tell me what happened.

That gang found them as they were inside the school. They had weapons.. they waited until Freddie and Carly went into the school. They attacked Carly and Freddie. He tried to fight, to help Carly get away. But there were four of them. After he knocked the first one away the biggest one slashed him a switchblade. The little one hit him over the head with a baseball bat and knocked him out.

When he woke up he was tied to a chair. Carly had her hands tied. Her mouth was taped shut. He pleaded and pleaded with them to stop but they just laughed and slapped him around. He begged for them to let her go. Offered to let them do whatever they wanted. Give them everything he had.

They made him watch as they raped Carly. She tried to scream, she kicked but there was no way she could get away. Freddie shut his eyes only to have them held open, a knife against his throat to stop Freddie from looking away.

When they were done, they cut the ropes tying his hands, and threw Carly at him. He held on to her, held her right against him as hard as he could. Their leader pulled out a hunting knife and stabbed Carly in the back. The leader thought about doing the same, but didn't. The sick freak wanted Freddie to 'enjoy' the moment. To 'savor' it forever. He dropped the knife and walked off laughing. Freddie watched her die in his arms. They killed her in cold blood. They got what they wanted and still murdered her. Freddie heard her last gasping breath.

He said Carly didn't say any last words.. I think he's..

You know what I think?

Fuck what I think. And fuck you for making me talk about this. Does it make you feel good, getting all the gory details out in the open? Do you me to talk about the sound.. the _squelch_ Carly's blood soaked body made as we carried her back to my car?

Do you want to know that Freddie blamed himself? How he woke up screaming in the middle of the night?

Is that interesting you sick fuck? You want to know how he spent an entire day digging her grave deep enough so animals wouldn't dig her back up? He never said a single word the entire time he did it.

I grabbed him just after he let himself get off balance on top of the plaza that same night? That make you feel happy knowing that? You want to know the gory details?

Fuck you for wanting to know the why, the where and the how. I don't care who sees this, or who ordered it, this is sadistic, making _everyone_ go through this masquerade of 'history'. Do you really think some punk kids in 200 years are going to care or even remember what happened?

If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have to deal with this. I wouldn't _have to remember. _I could forget it all, wasted out of my mind until the next time we go out into no-man's land to get half of us killed by the metal, for whatever stupid fucking suicide mission John "Savior of Humanity" Connor is sending us on. I hope they send one of those fucking terminators and wipe out the entire base. I couldn't give a shit. My real life died the day Spencer did. This is just a goddamn waking nightmare.

I'm fucking done with this. Don't give me that look. Turn that piece of shit camera off right now.

Fuck off.

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**AN: **Rating changed to M.


	4. Freddie

**Chapter Name: **Freddie.

**Notes: **Thanks to reviewers **Pigwiz, Jose C, Nindira and Snapplelinz.**

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The army trucks that came to pickup bodies had stopped coming. Freddie took it on himself. We drove to Lake View Cemetery the day after she died.. no, the day after she was murdered. I tried to get him to talk. It was no use. I followed him out the door as he carried Carly's body wrapped up in a white sheet.

We drove over the 520 Bridge as dawn broke. The morning was perfect. A cloudless sky, no wind. Lake Washington was still and calm. Everyone hated this stupid bridge before, the place was constantly packed. Now it was devoid of any activity. I could see the mountains in the background. All it did was remind me how beautiful this city was before it all went to hell. Now the only thing left that has any beauty is nature itself. Maybe it'll take over and reclaim everything. I saw a tv show about that once.

Freddie broke into their equipment shed looking for something to dig her grave. Every machine he tried spluttered then died. Parts were either stolen or broken down, or the fuel was siphoned off.

The only thing left was a shovel.

One.

Freddie placed it in the back of the van along with a bag of quick dry cement. He picked the location. Over to the east with the view of the lake.

He stopped the car. Freddie pulled out the shovel and chucked it onto the ground.

Then Carly. He picked her up so softly. He placed her under the shade of a nearby tree. A gnarled old oak tree that stood out from the rest of the trees by virtue of the size and location standing alone.

A dozen paces away Freddie took the shovel and rammed it into the dirt. Luckily the recent rain had made it soft. I'd hate to think what would have happened had it been sunny and dried out.

The first thing he did was cut the top layer of grass out.

Then he started on the soil itself.

It took hours.

I watched for an hour then drove off looking for something, anything to help him. I should have looted a hardware store or something before we left. I should have seen this coming. I should have been there for Carly.

Now she's dead. Because I didn't fucking stay with my friends. I left them and Carly died because of me. I screamed, and let out my rage on a nearby computer monitor. I ripped out of the desk it was attached to and tossed it straight into the window.

The glass shattered. The sound, the destruction.. I liked it. I stalked the office, smashing anything and everything I could find. I destroyed everything I could get my hands on. What was the fucking point in keeping everything just right? No-one would care. The odds anyone who worked here still being alive were next to nothing.

It was just like old times. Except this time no-one gave a fuck about what I was doing.

Spencer wouldn't chastise me.

Freddie wouldn't roll his eyes and make a snide remark.

The cops wouldn't show up.

Lewbert wouldn't screech at me.

My mom.. she never cared anyway.

Carly wouldn't stop me.

That's when I stopped. I thought about all the times Carly had intervened. Had helped me. Had saved me. My rage quickly turned to grief. I stopped and slid down the wall. I couldn't help remember, and I cried for what must have been three or four hours. The sun had risen nearly straight up.. so it was probably just before mid-day.

The only thing that stopped me from just lying there until Freddie came to find me was a rumble in my stomach. I knew Freddie would be feeling the same, and the van had all the rations and bottles of water.

I drove the van back to Freddie. He'd made good progress on the hole. If I had to guess he was half-done. I interrupted him by handing him a bottle of water and one of the ration bars. He grunted and ripped the bar open and finished it in two bites. One long gulp of water later and he was back to digging.

Deeper and deeper down he went. The pile of dirt grew taller. Every 15 or so seconds another clump of dirt would fly up and land in the pile.

Then the scraping noise stopped.

It was done.

I picked up and took Carly over to Freddie. I slowly bent down to pass her to Freddie, who laid her down to rest. He opened the sheet and kissed her forehead before closing the sheet over her. Freddie threw the shovel back up over the lip of the dirt then I helped him up. He took the shovel, and aimed it into the pile of dirt.

He paused. I guess he wanted me to say a few words.

'Goodbye cupcake.. I'm gonna miss you. I'm sorry.' That's what I said. What would you have said? Have you ever thought about dying? About death? About the fact _everyone _dies. We go through life ignoring it. Pushing it in the back of our mind. But it always comes and it's never pretty. Look at the person sitting next to you, or over on the other side of the room. Think about what you'd say about them if you they died tomorrow.

I couldn't take it, I couldn't think of anything more before the tears rolled down my eyes. Freddie sighed and started filling in Carly's grave.

Before we left we made one last stop. Freddie looked up the map and found the engraver's building. We stepped inside, the sunset filled the room. All the dust we disturbed showed up in the orange shafts of light. He picked up a pre-cut but blank sandstone headstone and a set of chisels.

I drove back to the plaza. Freddie sat in the passenger seat staring out the window. I didn't try to talk to him this time. Once we arrived he took the headstone and the chisels and vanished.

It wasn't until much later that evening until I realized I hadn't seen Freddie since we came back. I'd heard him chipping away, but that had stopped. Normally he'd have come down for dinner by now.

I called his name. I searched every room in the loft from bottom to top. The only sign of him was the headstone with "Carly Shay" carved into that was sitting on the wall in the room he slept in. I heard a door swinging back and forth. I recognized the noise, the squeaky door to the emergency stairwell. It lead up to the roof. If that was blowing open and shut it meant someone was on the roof.

It meant Freddie was up there. I had a bad feeling about it, so I raced up the few flights of stairs up to the roof.

He was standing on the edge of the building. I called his name out slowly. I didn't want to spook him. I walked around to where he carefully, not wanting him to panic. He was staring into the distance. Freddie hadn't even acknowledged my presence.

I closed towards him when he turned to me, frowned and opened his arms wide. I ran the last steps as he tilted his balance forward to fall off the edge. I grabbed the back of his shirt as hard as I could to stop him, angled over the lip of the building. I wrapped my other arm around my waist and threw him onto the ground on the roof.

I asked him what he hell he was thinking and he just ignored me. He stood up and walked right on by.

I didn't know what to do. I thought for a second about shoving him up against the wall and asking what his problem was... but I knew what the problem was.

Everyone handles death differently. Some people shut down. Other people run from it. Some try to ignore it until they can't deny any longer.

I followed him back to the room he'd been sleeping in. It was a spare guest bedroom he'd used sometimes when he stayed over. I wanted to talk about it. He sat down on the side of the bed with his head in his hands. Freddie didn't look like he wanted to talk. He was looking at the headstone he carved for her. I knew I couldn't leave him alone that night. I did the only thing I could think of. I didn't want him to wait until I was asleep then go jump off the building without anyone to stop him.

I walked over to the bed, cupped his cheek with my hand then kissed him. I don't know why.. but it made sense. I kissed him hard, pushing him back onto the bed. If I could distract him, distract myself. Get rid of the dull pain and the aching hole in our hearts after losing Carly. Having to live in this wasteland just never stopped reminding us of how badly our lives had been ruined. I wanted to forget about it for one fleeting moment.

He had tears falling from his eyes as he finally kissed me back.

Then we made love.

Had sex.

_Fucked._

Have you learned about that yet kids? Give it time if you haven't. Although if you are watching this you should be old enough to understand.

Is that enough of a 'historical record'? Do you want to know how many times we did it? What positions? What color the condoms were? How long he lasted? How good it was? Is that what you want to know?

All that matters is we got through the night. Together. I didn't know how much longer we'd live, and I sure as hell didn't want to die a virgin.

I didn't know if Freddie was until that night. There were more than enough girls chasing after him that I wouldn't be sure. He never said anything if we brought it up. That was probably my fault after what happened when I found out about a secret of his a few years earlier.

In the back of my mind I suspected that more than just kissing happened with him and Carly after he saved her life. I figured if it did they wouldn't tell me. Freddie wouldn't 'kiss and tell'. He'd keep her outward virtue intact. Freddie wouldn't tell a soul if Carly asked him.

The next morning he was gone by the time I woke up. Early. The sunlight and birds woke me up. I went into a momentary panic. I sprinted on to the roof calling out his name. He wasn't there. I went back downstairs and searched for him again. In the end I found a note on the kitchen table. He'd left to go back to the cemetery. That he'd be back later on.

I decided to give him the time alone. That was until the it passed midday and he still wasn't back. I figured maybe his stupid van broke down, so I took the pickup back over.

I was right. It'd broken down. But he hadn't spent the time idle. Freddie had put up her headstone. He'd pulled out another and carved his own name into it. Most startling of all, he'd dug an entire new grave next to Carly. He left another headstone lying beside it.

I asked what he was thinking? He wasn't going to jump off the building again. Right?

No. He told me what they say about seeking revenge.

Always dig two graves.

On the drive back a macabre joke spilled out. Freddie commented that since he'd already dug one grave for Carly, that the guys who killed her wouldn't get any at all. Just him.

He laughed. A dark chuckle, the kind I'd never heard Freddie use in his entire life. He'd never been that cynical, or disturbed ever. It shook me. Our lives were ruined beyond all recognition, but I hadn't expected that from him. I stopped the car and fucked him right on the bridge. Just to see if I could snap that dark streak out of him before it got worse.

It worked for a few hours.

That became our thing. Anytime he slipped further into a depression or self-hate or anger, I'd bring him back from the proverbial edge. He even did the same for me a few times. Sometimes it was hard and quick and nasty just to snap ourselves out of our morose thoughts.

Then other times.. usually the days we didn't want to risk going out because of fire, or pelting rain, or when we could hear street fighting between rival gangs, it was slow. Deliberate. He'd find me holding back my tears on the roof. Or lying in bed staring blankly at the roof. He'd hold me, and kiss me, then try to tell me it would get better even though we both knew it was a filthy lie.

Then came the momentary escape.

We'd begun sleeping together as well as _sleeping together. _Made sense to me. When the world grows cold you find warmth wherever you can. How philosophical of me. It wasn't love in the pure, romantic sense of the word. But it was all the love we could hope for.

He spent the next month practicing with the guns I took from my uncle. I taught him the basic operation, and he took it from there. It wasn't hard for him. I guess all those video games came in handy eventually. He made us go back and get a few different types. He'd vanish for hours at a time with his guns and a pair of binoculars. Then he'd come back and practice on the roof.

I kept busy as well. Mostly checking the building to make sure it wasn't falling apart.. I went back to the school to get the food and water Freddie and Carly went to get. I took it all. I didn't walk through the halls that Carly and Freddie had. The elevator stayed working using power from the generator in the basement.

Normally it was for the whole building if there was a long-term power failure. Luckily for us, it'd been refilled less than a week before the attack as part of a routine maintenance. By the time the power failed hardly anyone was left to use the generator so we had it all to ourselves. Freddie worked out that with just us in the building and only minimal usage of the lights and elevator that we wouldn't have to worry about finding more fuel. But I scavenged some drums worth anyway and brought them with me.

I followed him once. He'd tracked down the gang who killed Carly. There were more of them now. Freddie told me 23. This massive three story house in what used to be the fancy part of the city.

The day after he decided he could use the M21 properly they had 22. Frontier justice. What if they did the same to other people? They needed to be punished. That was the end of the discussion on his part.

Two days later it was 21.

When Freddie shot three more of them by the time the week was over they'd started leaving on their own. Freddie watched as their numbers dwindled. Soon enough Freddie was certain they were down to the five that had killed Carly.

Freddie had let me in on his plot. I tried to talk him out of it but my heart wasn't in it. What was left for us but revenge? He was right. Those monsters didn't deserve to live. Not after what they did to Freddie and Carly. It was pretty simple. Their security was lax. They'd trashed the place before moving in so most of the locks on the doors were broken.

The only protection they had was installing some temporary steel grid fencing around the house with some basic locks on them. It had rough canvas to prevent people looking in from ground level. It didn't help anyone looking into the building with a 12x scope from an attic a block away. The house must have used artificial turf since it hadn't grown at all. Cars littered the front garden, all being modified, worked on as transport for the gang. The rifle itself had jammed and broken irreparably when Freddie had been practicing which meant we couldn't just hunt down and shoot them like the rabid dogs they were.

No. We'd have to go into their lair.

I'd tell you the plan but it didn't matter. The day before we were supposed to go, he went on his own. He left a letter for me saying he didn't want anyone else to get hurt. He couldn't have been gone for long because I'd heard him stir and leave the room. I figured he was up to make breakfast or something. I should have _known _he'd do something like this. He always wanted to protect Carly, and never wanted me help to do it if it had anything to do with other guys. Of course he'd want revenge on his own. Of course he'd leave me alone again, just like every other man I've known in my life.

I didn't want to be alone again. After grabbing my combat vest and guns from I drove a million miles an hour to get over there. Freddie had taken another car and it was there only a block away from the house. The pickup skidded to a halt beside the car. If I got any closer they might hear me. I saw Freddie push open a side gate then move inside. I couldn't call out to him. If anyone heard me they'd be alerted for sure.

I grabbed the MP7 from the passenger seat and along with my pistol I checked they were both loaded. I quietly closed the door behind me.

Then I heard a short scuffle and a strangled cry.

As I was running up to the entrance shooting started. I instantly dropped to the gutter, head down. A burst of pistol fire sizzled through the canvas sheeting and rippled over my head.

Freddie's pistol returned fire half a dozen times. I edged out of the gutter and started crawling towards the entrance.

I froze when I heard the boom of a shotgun from inside the house. It was followed instantly by a rifle shot. Shattered glass mixed with the ping of ricochets from a car Freddie was taking cover behind from the two shooters.

Then the M4 carbine Freddie had made me go back to my uncle's for started firing. Freddie was firing short bursts. He caused more glass to break and the sound of cracking wood filled the air. It all stopped for a moment until I heard someone yell out a half a curse before a massive explosion rocked the house.

Once the explosion faded I stood up again. I called out to Freddie but got no reply.

I took out my own pistol, and cautiously made my way inside. The first guy was slumped face first against a tree, jeans hanging low. Freddie must have surprised the big dumb idiot while he was taking a leak. The blood was still leaking out from his throat, soaking into the grass.

The short guy had fallen off the steps. The moron was still holding his pistol sideways like a try hard gangsta. If he had got the first shot at Freddie, then holding his gun the wrong way got him killed because he missed and Freddie hit him four times.

I went through the door with the pistol aimed up, I cleared the front room, slowly and deliberately. The other two members of the gang were lying there. The first had three large exit wounds in his back, and the other had a face full of shrapnel from the grenade Freddie had thrown. It was not pretty.

I heard Freddie cry out, then the sound of a fight upstairs. Then three gunshots right one after another. Then all the noise stopped.

I ran up the stairs.. I called out to Freddie. I didn't care if anyone else heard me by now. Freddie called out to me. Called my name.

The room they were in was a mess. Freddie was slumped against one wall, the leader the other. Both walls were splattered with blood.

Freddie had both guns. But he was hit. In the stomach. I could see the blood through his clothes. The other guy.. the one who stabbed Carly was hit in the shoulder and knee. Freddie was in pain, I could tell. The gritted teeth, he was struggling to keep his gun up at the leader.

Freddie told me he was dying. He could feel it. I tried to reassure him, even if I had no idea. I tried putting pressure on his wound, all it did was cause more blood to soak through his shirt. He told me to let him go so he could talk.

The leader sat silently coping with his own pain. Freddie asked if the leader recognized him. He didn't answer until Freddie lifted the gun up at him again. Yes he grunted. Freddie asked him his name.

Andrew.

I watched Freddie ask question after question. They both grimaced each time they talked. The leader tried to beg for his life. Freddie told him all about her. How much effort she spent on school on learning. How she brightened any room she entered. How she's been his friend since the day he first met her. How much fun they had together. How much he cared and loved her.

He realized Freddie wasn't going to let him go. Not after what he did. Then his eyes narrowed and he crawled back upright against the wall as best he could. Freddie held the gun up, but his aim wavered. Andrew laughed. Maliciously he told us how he thought Carly enjoyed it when he raped her, how she was the best fuck he'd ever had.

Freddie shot him between the eyes before he could get a third lie out of his mouth. When the echo of the shot faded away, I picked Freddie up in my arms as best I could and carried him out. I took him back to the truck and drove home.

He was already unconscious. By the time I got him back into his bed his pulse was even weaker. He would fade in and out. I would be lucky to talk for a minute before his head would drop and I would pray that his pulse wouldn't have stopped. I'd wrapped his wound with bandages from the medical kit we had and have him the painkillers from our med kit. He told me they helped but it still hurt so much. But that it was worth it. He couldn't let those murderers go free.

I didn't know how to fix him. I hadn't so much as seen a med student or nurse or dentist or vet, let alone a doctor while I was scavenging. Freddie told me to stop worrying. He even _apologized _for getting shot. Told me that I was strong enough to go on without him. He begged me not to do what he nearly did on the roof. Can you believe that? He was about to _**die**_and he still cared more about my feelings than his own. That's how he lived, and that's how he died. Keeping focused on the people close to him. Worrying about them first and foremost.

His breathing became shallower. Freddie had trouble keeping his eyes open. Tears started rolling down my face. I knew it wouldn't be long. Freddie pulled his hand up to my cheek to wipe them away. He even tried our little 'I hate you' routine. Fuck that. I said as much to him. He kept gently rubbing my cheek and told me he loved me and asked that I never forget him. Never in a million years would I ever forget him or Carly. I kissed him. I told him I loved him back. He smirked. That smirk. That charming, impossibly annoying and frustrating but still somehow reassuring smirk of his.

He said he knew. He just didn't expect to have to die before I'd say it. I fucking cried, like a goddamn baby. When he started gasping for air we both knew it was time. The next few minutes of his assurances about how I'd be okay.. it all felt hollow.

I felt empty. Like everything had been taken away from me. That life itself, a normal life was stolen from us by _whatever_ it was that started this war.

The last thing he said was about Carly. Then his eyes closed for the last time. His chest fell and didn't rise again. He was dead.

I buried him two hours later alongside Carly.

I was half an hour into digging my own grave next to him when I realized the futility of it. Who would know where to bury me if I died? No-one would know. No-one would care.

Freddie was still a fucking teenager and he was dead.

Carly was dead.

Spencer was dead.

I didn't leave the apartment for a week. I barely ate. I just stayed in bed. I took some of the pills Freddie had in the medicine cabinet to dull the pain. I finished the last of the liquor Spencer had kept in his room that Freddie and me drank whenever we felt like it. They didn't numb anything.

I stood up on the edge of the building. I wanted to jump. I nearly did. But that damn smirk of his kept flashing up into my mind. His words. Don't do it. I looked over the dying city. My home.

And I was completely alone.

Is that enough 'history' for you? Telling you how my best friends died all those years ago?

I'm so over this shit. If you want me I'll be in the chow line before the mission briefing. Don't even think about asking me what Freddie told me. There's no way in hell I'm telling you. You don't deserve that. You weren't there.

Got it?

Good.

* * *

**AN: **Sorry Snappz. What time do you want to come over? I'll cook you dinner to make up for it.


	5. Steven

**Chapter Name: **Steven.

**Notes: **Thank you to reviewers **OneHorseShay, baronvonmilo, Fanfic-Reader-88 and Nindira.**

* * *

No third party camerawoman telling me what to do this time kiddies. This is my own personal video. I guess it got to me after a while. It felt good talking. Maybe we all die.. no-one survives failed missions. Not by getting back to base at least. If that happens no-one will ever see these.

Maybe we succeed and it doesn't matter anyway. Might as well let it all hang out. This will be the last for a while. Maybe forever.

Normally I talk shit. Half the stuff I say is a lie. Everything else is exaggerated. Usually.

Not today. Why lie? There's no point. It's dark. Cold. There's no noise. Everything is silent. No birds. No dogs. No cats. No anything. Even the air itself feels dead.

The _Jimmy Carter._ It sank. That Australian bitch Jesse fucked up.

Now he's gone too.

Steven.

He never made it out with the rest of the crew. His station was in the torpedo room. Too far away. Whatever it was they left in too much of a hurry. Or maybe he died before the evacuation. I told him he needed to leave, to come help us with strategy. To be as safe as any of us. I had a bad feeling. Any sub that's active in enemy waters will eventually become unlucky. But he wouldn't leave his post on the ship. Fuck. Boat. He never let me forget that.

'Jimmy is a boat Sam. A ship is a target.'

I just wish I could have got my hands on her. But I couldn't. The cowardly bastards who abandoned their posts and killed Steven. They were taken away to Serrano Point HQ for a debrief. We lost a lot of good people on that boat.

How did she lose it? It wasn't the metal. They say it's 'classified' but we talk. We aren't a military. We are the 'resistance'. People talk. Our metal talks. They just doesn't realize it. The boat was supposed to go to Perth and back. Like they'd done so many times before. I've even done it once when they needed someone to fill in for a sick member of the crew.

Boat went to crush depth. That doesn't happen by accident. Not with the freak "Queeg" in charge. It doesn't make mistakes. It wasn't programed to.

I hope she burns in hell. Steven might have been one of the oldest people left, but he shouldn't have died. Not now. Not on that mission. It wasn't his time. It was her fault.

I shouldn't dwell on this, but I don't have much time myself. I just needed to talk about it. I'm on my own mission now. The great and awesome leader John Connor gave it to the team himself. I don't think he's that impressive. I'd probably think more of him if he didn't need his bodyguard robot girlfriend following him around everywhere.

Important.

Vital to the future of humanity.

We needed to be the best we could.

Complete the mission at all costs.

That's what this supposed 'leader' told me.

The only humanity I care about is the people I've lived with for the last.. god.. fifteen years? I don't even keep track. Days and nights meld into one when you live in an underground bunker sealed up from the outside world until you need to go out and people die.

We survived the bio weapons. The radiation. The infiltrators. Hunger. The chems. Together.

I can tell what everyone is thinking. Can we survive our first _real _mission for Connor?

I'm beyond caring if this is classified or not. John Mr. Sir, court martial me if I survive.

We're going for the Idaho National Laboratory. There's tech we need to use. Supposedly. We move by night. On foot. Alongside but not on the I-84. Until day is about to break then we head for shelter to arranged supply caches.

Yakima. That was the first stops. The city itself was pretty much abandoned. 90,000 people were now less than a hundred. The machines come back every so often, a few dumb idiots who made too much noise or showed themselves too clearly get wasted, the rest hide, then a year or two later the cycle repeats itself. We were there a few days.

I found Carly's grandpa's house. It wasn't looted or burnt. Not enough people survived the initial chemical attack on the city to cause anything like the same problems as our own fellow humans caused us in Seattle.

You might think it was overgrown with weeds and grass. No. Nothing grew more than a couple inches off the ground here. Another of the tactics they used to try to stop us from living. All these years later we still have no freakin' idea why they didn't just nuke Seattle. Maybe it was part of their plan. Maybe it was a mistake and they just couldn't correct it. It's been bombed of course. But never invaded.

Wherever he was when the attack happened it wasn't at home. Apart from the dust, it would have been just as he'd left it the day of the attack. A couple of dishes were in the sink. His old TV stood still in the main room. The computer he used to chat with Carly and Spencer sat silent and rusting in the corner. His grandpa chair proudly taking up the central space in the room.

Then the pictures. All over the house hung up on the walls they were everywhere. Behind a dated, even by pre-war standards antique wood cabinet with glass windows lay books filled with memories. Carly. Her mother. Steven. Spencer. Freddie. Even Marissa. And the elder Shay's wife. Framed up along the walls. Or in filled to bursting picture books. Some faded, but others clear as day. Carly had her own book. All the way from a day old baby to almost adult-hood.

I looked back at history. Knowing what had happened. I hated and loved every second I kept looking.

Hated myself for not being able to protect them.

Loved them because I had nothing left but memories.

Night started falling and with it the end of my little trip down memory lane. When I made my way back to the rest of the team we tried to sleep. Resting among their soft breaths I thought about the mission. And how we'd be getting there.

I knew the route. I took it myself months earlier to scout the way. To setup for the full mission. To liase with other cells.

Sunnyside was now a giant bomb crater with a handful of standing buildings around the edges.

Richland. I'd call it a mass grave but no-one was buried. No matter where you turn you see skeletons littering the ground. It used to be the 'dumping point' for a work site. We took the site out years ago.

We would combine with the rest of the squads and the special weapons at Umatilla.

La Grande. Resupply our food. It's used for farming. It's a dangerous job growing food out in the open. But we need it so badly that the workers who would die if they ever found the hidden crops would be acceptable losses.

Whitman Forest was a massive conflagration. Thick choking black smoke hung in the sky. They were using it as a work camp for raw materials. But people got out. So the machines burnt the entire forest around them. Then didn't bother putting it out.

Finally we'd take a detour past Boise. Radiation. It also meant we avoided Mountain Home AFB. We had intel that the machines might be there. It wasn't our mission so we were going to avoid it.

Our route would be through the Salmon-Challis forest then Butte City.

Even after all that distance no-one said what we were all thinking. Are we on an actual mission?

We could be a distraction. A diversion for a real attack. We could be sent into a deathtrap just to get our bodies stuck in the meat grinder so Connor can make the real attack while the metal is focused away from wherever it is his part of the mission is. Anyone could set off a trap and get us all nuked.

It's happened before.

That will be a good ending. A fade to white then being vaporized. I hope if there's a life beyond his one that Carly and Freddie and everyone I loved then lost are waiting there for me.

Steven's death was painless. Assuming he wasn't hurt or injured before it happened. The sub imploded. He wouldn't have felt a thing.

As much as I would want that simple quick easy death.. if that happens the mission is over. We would have failed.

So no, I can't die in a flash of white heat. Even if this is just a diversion. For all the bullshit.. Connor.. he's right. This is vital for the future of humanity. In the end the simple fact is this.

If we succeed then maybe it'll be worth all the pain and death and suffering.

Even if that death is mine.

We attack after night fall tomorrow.

* * *

**AN:** Thanks for the ongoing reviews. For anyone who is wondering about it, I'm roughly following the Terminator Sarah Connor Chronicles time-line which is why there are a few references to things that don't exist in other timelines.


	6. Sam

**Chapter Name: **Sam.

**Notes: **Thanks to reviewers **PigWiz, Urias and OneHorseShay.**

* * *

A junior officer stepped through the bunker door. The man, Jenkins, was junior only in name. He was far older than his commander. Having served in the First Gulf War, Bosnia and spening most of the 2000's in Afghanistan and Iraq as a senior PMC leader meant he'd seen pretty much every a foot soldier could. Even with all that experience Jenkins still shuffled nervously across the room until he stood tall in front of what passed for an office table.

He glanced nervously at the bodyguard standing bolt upright on the wall. Some people just never felt comfortable around reprogrammed machines. They had a tendency for the 'obey human' rules to flip suddenly back to 'kill all humans'.

Despite all the work that could be done, water still leaked from the roof. The maddening sound of dripping water hitting concrete might drive other men insane. Not Connor. To him it signaled the inevitable march of time.

Inevitable?

Patiently Jenkins looked across the desk as his commander finishing writing up some order sheets. They were split into two neat piles. Finished and signed, the commander turned his attention to his trusted subordinate.

"The mission?"

"Successful. Puckett improvised."

"Good. She was better at that than most of our commanders."

At that point Connor grabbed one half of the files and neatly placed the stack it into the trash can next to him.

Then the question everyone dreaded. The answer was a given. They would have heard something by now.

"Casualties?"

"Total. One of the over watch team survived an air attack, but he didn't make it. Legs were blown off."

John Connor sighed. Every man, woman and child who died under his command, his orders weighed heavily on his mind. They did the job though. In his heart he mourned the loss, in his head he knew the potential cost for success for the mission.

He would have paid it through gritted teeth. There was only one more thing to discuss.

"The tape sir. We've got it back. The tech team have cleaned it up." A sweeper team had made their way through the facility to recover what tech and gather the bodies for proper burial. By the entrance to the chamber they found what was left of Sam, and the camera lying close by.

"Condition?"

"Garbled in parts. But ready to watch." Even though he didn't consider the 'she' to be a 'she' at all. His commander did though. Which meant he did. At least when he wasn't alone. Especially when he was in the same room with the commander.

Connor picked up the second stack of papers and handed them to the commander.

More orders.

More death.

More hope.

"Take these to Volker, Lawson, Young and Walker." With a wave of his hand he dismissed the junior office in front of him, who left the room in what could be called a graceful hurry.

"Play it Cameron."

* * *

Goddammit. I knew it. I'm going to die here. In this chromed out metal tech lab which smells like a hospital. I think life is trying to be ironic. If I was in a hospital I'd be fine. Instead I get the empty smell of _clean _mixed with the slight tinge of burning oil running through my nose as my life drips away.

I'm bleeding out. Turned a corner, a patrol bot was going around up the hallway. Got hit in the stomach. The guys pulled me back before the second shot. It would have split my head open like a watermelon. My armor took most of the blast. If anyone else in the squad got hit they would have been cut in half by the plasma. We don't have the supplies to patch me up. The only thing keeping me conscious is the morphine. And it still hurts like a bitch. I shudder to think how much it'd hurt without it. From what I've been told it's excruciatingly painful without pain meds. You take a long time to die as a bonus.

That would be good if there was any surgeon around. We do have a barely capable medic, but he's with the over watch team. So I'm dying here, one way or another.

The squad is going on without me. Mission is too important. They put me in a room where I can see out into the main entrance to the site. I'm theoretically covering their backs. If I hear anything or see anything, I'll radio them. But there's nothing. It'd also mean our over watch team would have to be killed without getting a warning off. That wouldn't happen. Their leader was too good for that to happen.

I say theoretically because the diversion worked perfectly. The EMP bomb worked even better. The only species left active in this place is humanity. I think the squad told me I was covering them so I'd not just let myself die.

Why am I recording this? What else do I have except to narrating my own death while the team prepares to complete the mission. The mission is the reason. Only after we complete it will I let myself die.

With that in mind I deserve to let some shit off my chest...

* * *

Connor listened intently, growing mildly impatient at having to listen to Sam's soliloquy on life and death. The amount of times the woman had cursed him and his decisions out frustrated and gave him some wry satisfaction.

The loneliness of command. Unchanging since the first human leaders took charge of their fellow men. Although the idea was far from a human only issue.

In her calm collected tone Cameron sought to steady John, "I have the transcript. Captain Puckett speaks highly of you later on."

He grunted, thinking about exactly how much was cursing and threats, and how much was respect.

Cameron sensed his annoyance, and skipped it ahead. He'd read the full transcript later.

* * *

"Come in... anyone there? Chronus One-One? This is Chronus One-Two."

The fuck?

"Goddammit, what happened to radio silence? This is Chronus One-One Actual." Even split from the main squad, she was still in command of the overall mission.

"Sam? You should be in the chamber by now." I guess you can drill military doctrine into civilians, but you can never imprint it totally to the point of unquestioning adherence to doctrine.

"Well I fucking got hit. The squad is already inside, but .. shit, what are you doing? You should be well out of range with that EMP bomb."

"We heard you got hit. We got the contact and the cas report. We came down to see if you need any assistance. They left you behind?"

"Why do you think we brought backup? I was only slowing the squad down." Backup referred to the other person trained for and with the smarts to actually complete the solo mission or at least survive long enough to pass it off to those who could complete it for us when they made contact on the other side.

"How does it look from the outside?"

"We've moved to over watch position Charlie. We left a couple guys covering us."

"Preparing to enter the chamber." The sound of hissing automatic doors shot down the radio link

"There's noth-"

"CONTACT!" A second voice screamed through the radio. I heard weapons fire echoing down the hall for half a minute before silence. Dead silence.

"Shit, shit.. Bracewell is hit. Fuck."

The backup.

"This is Chronus.. fuck it, this is Sam, what the hell happened?"

"A trap. The metal had a couple guards ready for when we opened the chamber. We didn't see it in the time. It took out Bracewell with one hit. Cut his body in half. It got Stevens and James before we stopped them. It's a real fucking mess. We're clear now. Chamber is undamaged. But now what do we do?"

Well that's just peachy.

"Chronus One... Actual come..." In the background I could faintly hear some geek tech chatter, the line squawked and the static was brushed away.

"This is Chronus One-Two Actual."

"Get the fuck in here. We need you."

"Watch the potty mouth dear." A mildly condescending tone replied back to me. It was the 2IC for the mission itself. We picked up that part of the team closer to the objective, as they had been doing recon before our arrival.

"You might be older but I'm still your superior officer. I'm looking straight at Entrance Theta."

"Sure thing Sam. You tell yourself that. The only thing you're superior at is eating!" Her voice shifted to a more professional tone, "Theta. Got it. We'll be there soon as I can. Out."

The radio clicked silent.

I could feel my life ebbing away. Draining away. My life didn't flash before my eyes. What did flash before my eyes was death. Spencer. Carly. Steven. Freddie. People I loved. People I hated. All the death and destruction and loss. Fuck it all. I'm coming back to you Carly.

I heard footsteps bounding up the corridor. I could tell it was the other squad. The door opened, two neat halves sliding into the wall. Three soldiers stood with their rifles up to clear the area. Another two bounded ahead, to clear the hallways to the left and right of the entrance. And then my 2IC walked into the light, her golden hair backbit by the bright early morning sunshine.

"You look like shit Sam." As she came closer I noticed her face was rough, clothes stained with mud and dirt and sweat. Just like everyone else here.

"I feel like shit."

She called the medic to come check me out, not much he could do. Stuck me with a shot of morphine, wrapped me up in some bandages and in so many words told me there was nothing more anyone could do. Not out here. It did help me stand up without worrying that my intestines were going to fall out.

"What's the play here?"

"You need to take over for me. You're the only one I trust with this."

"To do what?" It intrigued her. Not knowing what I was doing all that time. With Connor. Planning. Preparing for a suicide mission without telling anyone what the goal was.

"Go back."

"Tell me and I'll go."

I unzipped one of the leg pockets and pulled out my full orders and instructions.

I handed them over. As she looked over them I said to her, "Not where. When."

* * *

"It was a good idea John."

"I know.. it's just not what _I _ordered." Connor tapped his pen on the desk, deep in thought. That he wasn't the only person smart enough to command or have the best interest of humanity was a reality check he constantly needed to have lest he grow over confident in his own abilities compared to the forces under his command.

"The mission parameters changed. It happens. Puckett worked around it as best she could."

"Show me the end."

* * *

I finished filling everyone in on what needed to happen. As soon as that generator flicks on the EMP bomb won't matter. We'll attract metal from all over the place. Bomb or no bomb, they will not be expecting the facility to switch on and they will come even if they think the guard units are still active.

It didn't long to get ready. I found it ironic that having their own nigh-impenetrable shell over the lab would help us stop them. They wouldn't get through all the shielding quick enough to get into the lab itself.

All the blast doors were dropped and blocked.

We left one slightly open. The furthest away from the chamber.

Everyone knew their role. Keeping that chamber safe was the only objective. We started the power up. Five minutes later we got the report from the over watch team, "Over watch report. Large enemy contact. Estimate 50.. five zero enemy foot troops. Two vehicles. Transport type. No weapons. Shit, fliers abo-"

Then silence. Seconds later a booming thud carried it's report through the building.

A massive explosion hit the roof. It tore light fixtures out of the ceiling. The lights flickered, and the ground shook. But it held.

Now it was my turn. I addressed what was left of the team and completed the defence plan.

"You know how important this mission is. You know your jobs. Die with honor. Delay the enemy as long as you can. There is no escape. Good hunting. You aren't just fighting for yourself."

Inspiring.

I can hear them coming now. The grind of tracks in the sand. The clank of the enemy dismounting the vehicles.

This is the end for me. If this makes it back somehow, I hope it was worth it.

Sam Puckett. Captain. Tech-Com Special Forces Pac Nor West. Based in Seattle. Signing off.

The last thing I did was stick this fucking camera in my webbing. I'll be damned if I die without giving _someone _the opportunity to see we died with dignity and did our duty to the human race.

* * *

Connor watched the vision, his eyes narrowed. Sitting forward in his seat, even as a hardened veteran of this devastating conflict he couldn't help the chill down his back when the first wave of the attack was launched. The shape of death. Implacable foes, unfeeling. Unemotional. Unable to feel pain. Impossible to reason with. They advanced through the doorway.

The first couple of defenders hidden in the side hallways didn't even bother shooting, they just hit the fuses on their demolition charges and flung them at the metal.

Even with a slight delay in the explosion, they were still shot to pieces before the explosions went off. The blast tore apart both dead flesh and steel. The next handful of defenders were brushed aside with minor casualties.

Sam lead her team in a delaying action, pausing to turn and spray a few shots towards the column of machines advancing towards the chamber. The hallways filled with a dark blue electrical light, sparks shot from the lights as the hum of the generators escaped into the corridors.

His men and women kept falling. They turned to shoot, but weren't fast enough to duck back into cover. Screaming. Thudding impacts. Bodies falling lifelessly to the cold hard floor. Soon the only one left was Sam.

By the time the machines got her they were too late. Hit in the legs, she fell before the entrance to the chamber. The picture spun as the camera broke loose and clattered to the ground.

The last frames of the video showed her smiling as a machine took aim at her body from point blank range.

What Sam was looking at told him all he needed to know. The blue turned to white. A cacophony of noise enveloped the very air. A final frame of lightning arcing inside the chamber told him they'd done it.

Would he ever truly be able to understand if the next part of the mission went well? Would everything change in an instant. Would he be stuck in this nightmare as another time line replaced his as the main one?

Their mission was a success. Now it was up to the woman who stood inside the chamber to make their sacrifices worth it.

* * *

**AN: **I've been trying to work on one of my other stories, but had immense writers block, and felt some disconnection with my muse. In the end I pulled up this story and just plugged away until I had the framework of the chapter, then filled it in with more detail and eventually we get this. Thanks for reading.


	7. Epilogue

**Chapter Name: **Epilogue

**Notes: **Thanks to reviewers **Urias**, **Pigwiz** and **Snapplelinz** as well as those who have commented on the story on the Creddie forum or elsewhere. Thank you all for reading.

* * *

"Today is April 21, 2011. If you are viewing this recording, then I have likely failed." I sighed. I didn't want anyone ever to see this, "If I'm lucky then this has been recovered as a historical artifact. Or maybe as a curiosity. The mad ravings of a lunatic."

I adjusted the camera so I could sit down while I talked. This could take some time. After spending all that time getting Sam used to debriefing by camera specifically to make this part of the mission as useful as it could be, myself being the one who wound up doing it was a touch ironic. I was always behind the camera then. Now I'm in front. Because of Sam.

Sam didn't make it. Through a crackling blue electrical haze I watched her life end because of a shining metal terminator. The entire squad died to protect me. I'm here to ensure their sacrifices aren't in vain.

I made sure that future isn't going to come to pass.

It was hard work. Grim. Dirty. But it was necessary. I wasn't the first person. Turns out the reason Seattle never got nuked was because of our side, in a previous attempt to make things right.

Someone once told me there is no future but what we make for ourselves.

It was my job to make that future better than it turned out the first time.

"I've killed. Machines. Humans. Not all of them were guilty of any crime. I murdered people for what they _might _do in one of the thousands of possible futures. I did what I was ordered to do. I did not take this lightly. Their faces haunt me at night. I was not trained to do these things. But I did them. For humanity."

I paused to decide how much I should reveal. It could still be valuable in the event we 'tried again'. I recalled all the aspects of my mission. How they died by my hand. Who died to protect me. What steps I took. How I changed the future.

I stopped Judgment Day.

"I'll start at what seems the logical point. What happened after I arrived. "

* * *

I was naked in a dark alleyway in the middle of winter. Stray cats mewled at me as I scrambled into the nearest doorway. It was the side entry to an apartment building. I tip-toed towards the laundry. It was empty. I tried locked door after locked door. Silently. Quickly. I couldn't afford to waste any time getting arrested. Luckily my identity wouldn't be on police records, but I didn't want to take any chances. I couldn't get captured, or locked up. Not even for a day.

No-one would respond to knocks. That was just stupid at this time of night.

I finally found an unlocked door and peeked inside. A young boy.. mid-teenage, was sitting on the couch. He took a second to notice me, then his eyes went wide. He looked left and right, as if thinking about waking his parents by yelling out. I'm pretty sure he was worried he'd get in trouble for watching TV at 4am on a Tuesday.

His eyes went as wide as saucers when he realized I was naked.

Ten minutes and a slightly fondled set of boobs later, I left wearing a combination of clothes from his sister, father and mother. At least the little perv didn't ask me to have sex with him.

I wondered if anyone else had this much trouble getting clothes when they went back.

I didn't have a lot of time to fulfill my mission. I contacted the safe house.

Safety wasn't something I'd had for a protracted period of time.

Overcome with weariness I stumbled into a bed. A real bed. 14 hours later I awoke to start the mission.

I didn't have any nightmares for the first time in years.

* * *

I finally completed encoding the video files into the multiple formats we were going to be using. Then came the laborious task of backing them up onto physical media. Tape. DVD. Blu-Ray. CD. SSD. HDD. SD. All the mainstream storage tech I could get my hands on, and some that weren't so mainstream. A courier had collected the boxes and sent them on their way.

Down in the apartment sub basement I set a fuse. Seconds later the computer died in a hellish inferno of thermite. The ferocious white heat reduced the computer to a pile of slag, completely destroying the chances of anyone recovering the data that was held on it. The noise quickly emptied from the vacant concrete basement and that was it.

I was done.

I could leave forever.

One final task needed to happen before I would leave Seattle for good. It's not a military one. This is personal. I can't go without doing it.

I've got enough money to live a good comfortable life. I can't come back to the US. Maybe I'll go to Australia. Or South Africa. Canada is too close. Mexico too hot. Germany? England? I'll decide once I'm at the airport.

The regulations recommended against seeing people from your future, in the past. I'm drawn towards it. I doubt anyone could resist the idea. I wouldn't normally say this.. but the regulations can go to hell.

* * *

It was a great day. Carly rescued me from getting detention. Freddie annoyed me less than he normally did. The Groovy Smoothie wasn't that busy today. T-Bo had taken our orders and come back fast.

The conversation happening right now however, was weak chizz.

Freddie and Carly were talking about their college plans. I shook my head and collapses even further into the blueberry blitz I'm drinking. The pair had been talking about it more and more lately. Without me. I hated it. There wasn't any point even if I wanted to. None of the schools they wanted to go to would take me.

All I'd accomplish by wanting to go as well is holding them back.

I couldn't let that happen. I made up some lie about picking out of a hat when my acceptances came, Carly laughed, Freddie rolled his eyes and that was the end of that line of questioning. The reality is I'd go to whatever college in Seattle I could get into, or one as far away as possible from where Carly and Freddie ended up.

Carly and Freddie.. that's how it's going to be pretty soon, it won't be Carly, Sam and Freddie. It's going to be Carly&Freddie. They have about ten shared schools on their massive college list, there's no chance in hell they'll end up separate. Unfinished business? My stupid 'bacon' theory ruined their first shot. That's probably why they want to wait until I'm gone. Freddie won't be reminded of my words and the feel of my lips on his. Carly won't feel as guilty if I'm on the other side of the country.

They won't have to take care of a juvenile delinquent.

It used to be Carly and Sam. Now it's Carly, Sam and Freddie. I don't even begrudge him that. Perhaps I even love him for it. Even if I know we'll never be _just _Sam&Freddie.

They need to become Carly&Freddie. As much for me as for them. I'm not cut out mentally to spend the 'college years' alongside them. I've faded into the background. If I tried then I might have been able to join them. Instead I sat around eating fatcakes and blowing off school.

Perhaps it's time to grow up?

As I stared into my drink ruminating on my epiphany, Freddie stood and left the table. Carly turned her eyes to follow him as a puzzled look overcame his face.

The door bell jangled as Freddie raced out the door, looked to the right for a moment then came back inside. The bell followed his entrance.

Freddie sat back down his face scrunched like he does when he's working on a stupid math problem or when his computer breaks down and he's not quite sure what to think or what to do.

"What was that about?" Carly asked.

"I swear I just saw Melanie!"

**The End.**

* * *

**AN: **So that's it. The end of this crossover/au story. I don't even remember where the idea for this story came from. Twitter maybe. I don't know. It was interesting to write. Especially with Sam as the central character. I hope you liked the little twist ending here. It's always fun to think of ways to kill off the main characters too.

Thanks for reading.


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